Flash Fiction: In a Phew words… no responses
The suicide note said “sorry for the inconvenience”. He carried his iMac in his back pack. He had wiped everything off the hard drive, except The Novel. He planned to leave it with the note on the platform when he plunged onto the rails. On the back of the Note he had written all his passwords, to make sure the file could be accessed and read. Somebody will see my tragedy, he thought. The drama of my going will ensure my immortality.
The Novel was, of course, a masterpiece. He wasn’t the only person who thought that. For two years his characters had infested his life, waking him in the morning, swarming about the grubby kitchen and the piled-high obstacle course that he lived in with Mother, whose obese, obsequious version of parenting had finally made his further existence impossible. And hers. Which was why she was lying in a mushed-up heap in between the piles of her so-treasured clutter, not breathing.
“Where the hell are you going you twit” Caris asked, her voice strained with the grit he had written into it. “Where are you taking us?” “You’ll be safe!” He promised. “I am taking you to eternal life!” “But what about you?” Camden Dave asked, “where will you be?” “Who knows”, he said.
Suicide bomber on the Northern Line
A suspected suicide bomber is thought to have been prevented from causing mayhem on the Northern Line as he lost his footing on the Camden Town platform and fell to his death in front of a train. A suspect package he was carrying was detonated by police in a controlled explosion. “I noticed this man all sweating and nervous and talking to himself, and this backpack he was placing by the kiosk” station supervisor Dave Parsons said, “so I called the police.”